


Jersey

by DemolitionSerenade



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-20 08:53:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemolitionSerenade/pseuds/DemolitionSerenade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank just wanted cold medicine, honestly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Can I Paint You?

Frank was sick, again. He supposed it could have had something to do with his cold, damp apartment, in the middle of February. Heaving a sigh, he forced himself out of the apartment into the even colder outside world. He forced his feet to move, one in front of the other until he arrived at the local pharmacy. It was worth it though, when he felt his body instantly warming up as soon as he stepped inside of the store. Rubbing his hands together, he walked through the aisles until he could find the cheapest headache and flu medicine they had to offer.

It took about twenty minutes of searching, but he finally emerged with a the cheap stuff his mom always bought. The stuff that worked enough to make him feel an ounce better, which was awesome because he really could of used it. 

He walked over to the checkout counter as slow as he possibly could, reluctant to step outside of the warm walls. He could of sworn he felt someone staring at him, too, which was giving him the creeps because he didn't see anyone else in the damn store. 

The checkout girl was totally checking him out. Definitely, and he only egged her on by grinning at her, but whatever. It got him a discount on the off-brand medicine and that's all that really mattered to him. He thanked her and waved, as flirty as he could muster. He really should have done that a lot more.

Frank was admiring how deathly cold yet wonderfully beautiful Jersey could be when he started to hear the insistent yelling. The constantly called out 'Wait up, dude! Please wait up!'. He really hoped that person caught the attention of who they were calling, because he just wanted to punch the fuck out of their face. He kind of felt bad when he realized they wanted his attention.

"Hey!" The person had yelled, finally catching up to Frank. "Hi, I'm sorry." The guy panted. Frank raised an eyebrow. "I'm- Fuck. I'm an artist, and I saw you in the pharmacy. I just- I didn't say anything 'cause I figured I'd never see you again, but I did see you!" The guy grinned. Frank stared, hoping his confusion played across his face. "I'm Gerard." The guy stuck his hand out. "And I think you are just stunningly beautiful, really. Shit this is weird, ugh." The guy -Gerard- groaned to himself. "It's cold as fuck out here, come get coffee with me?" Frank really wanted to turn him down, but the guys eyes were practically begging, so he accepted and followed him to the closest coffee shop. 

It was really warm on the inside, and Frank cherished the heat dearly. He thought about buying a heater for his tiny apartment, just one to sit in his bedroom over night. That would be nice, maybe on his next paycheck. 

Gerard led him to the counter, surprising him completely by buying his coffee for him. But fuck, he wasn't complaining about free coffee. They sat in the corner by a window, Frank watching the snow fall, Gerard watching Frank. 

"So, uh." Gerard stammered. Frank stared at him, sipping his coffee nonchalantly. "Can I paint you?" He asked shyly. Frank almost choked on the coffee.

"Can you what?" He asked, hazel eyes staring wide. 

"Paint you. I told you, I'm an artist."

"An artist that want's to paint me."

"Right."

"Uh." Frank shrugged, trying to pretend this wasn't freaking him out. "Sure, dude. You can paint me." 

"Cool!" Gerard grinned. "But can it be at your place? My brother's home all the time and he'd never let me get anything done. He's an ass."

"You live with your brother?" Frank questioned, watching the guys face heat up.

"Actually... I live with my mom." He muttered, and then Frank lost it. He was laughing so hard he spit scorching hot coffee all over his legs, but he didn't even care because Mr. Sex here lived with his fucking mom! Frank was definitely calling him that now, Mr. Sex.

"Okay, sorry." Frank said, trying to stop laughing before he mentally ruined this guy. "That's admirable. You can't be older than 23. I'll write down my address and you can come around tomorrow afternoon alright?" Frank was writing down his address before Gerard even responded, laying it down in front of him before he even thought about speaking, and walking out of the shop just after he called out a soft 'See ya'.

 

Frank had a theory that Satan's Lair was actually -20 degrees. It wasn't like people couldn't handle the heat, but the cold was fucking suffocating. At least, it was suffocating to him. He hoped it wouldn't be to Gerard, and he definitely hoped Gerard would still want to paint Frank all huddled up in the corner of his bed with about twenty blankets. He was half surprised Gerard even turned up in the first place.

"So, this is my room." Frank muttered as he guided the man carrying a bunch of art supplies through his shitty apartment. He watched Gerard set up an easel and climbed back into his warm corner. "Don't get paint on my carpets." Gerard nodded, taking in the room.

"Don't you get cold in here?" Gerard questioned.

"All the fucking time." Frank nodded. "Why did you run up to me yesterday?"

"I told you." Gerard frowned. Frank didn't really like Gerard's frown, he looked like a lost puppy. 

"Yea, but it sounded like pure bull." Frank stared at Gerard. 

"I'm sorry that it sounded like that, but I was telling you the truth." Gerard shrugged. Frank guessed he was sketching out an outline or something like that. It got silent, not that Frank minded. He thought Gerard might have though, because he was totally going to fall asleep. 

 

Three hours after Gerard arrived, he was leaving, and Frank actually kind of felt sad. He almost wanted to ask him to stay, to paint more pictures or maybe watch Frankenstein with him and get high. Either would have been fine by him, he just didn't want Gerard to leave. But then his phone rang, and after listening to Gerard sound distraught when answering the person, he thought maybe asking him to stay would be a bad idea.

"Who was that?" Frank asked, rubbing his face to try and warm it up.

"My boyfriend." Gerard shrugged.

"Does your boyfriend know you're painting pretty boys?" Frank raised an eyebrow and Gerard shook his head almost violently. 

"No, uh. Not really. He doesn't like it when I paint or... talk to people... or um, I've gotta go. He wanted to see me." And then he was out to door before Frank could reply. He was completely out of reach by the time Frank realized he had left his art stuff. 

Oh well, at least he'd have to be back for it eventually.


	2. Shit

Gerard did in fact come back for his art stuff. Frank had been staring mindlessly at the news and eating pop tarts in his underwear when he showed up. Hey, at least it wasn't someone selling girl scout cookies this time. Which was nice, actually. However, seeing Gerard's black eye when he opened the door wasn't very nice.

"I left my things." Gerard mumbled.

"What happened to your eye?" Frank asked as Gerard pushed past him.

"A very angry canvas fell on me." Gerard shrugged. Frank almost laughed at how incredibly bad that excuse was, but then he remembered somebody had punched the poor sap. He wanted to punch them right back. "Did I take my brushes with me or leave them?" Gerard mumbled, waving Frank off a second later when he saw them sprawled on Frank's bed.

"Does the canvas have a name?" Frank crossed his arms. Gerard turned and stared at him.

"I don't generally name inanimate objects, Frank. That's a little weird."

"Well yea, but mothers generally name their children so what's this guys name? Or did his mom really name him canvas?" And then Gerard looked really pissed. Frank couldn't tell if it was hot or frightening or maybe both. It was probably both.

"Look, it's not really any of your business okay? It was an accident and I just wanted my art supplies so back off." Gerard attempted to gather all of his things in his arms, only succeeding in getting paint all over Frank's bedroom floor. "Shit." He groaned. "Shit, Frank. Fuck. I'm sorry, I'll clean it up. I just -Fuck. I can't do it right now I've gotta go." And then he dropped all his things back onto Frank's floor and ran out the door, leaving Frank staring after him.

"Weirdo." Frank mumbled, sitting back on the couch and taking a bite of his pop tart.

 

Frank was halfway down the street, lugging his new heater with him, when he heard shouting from an alley. All common sense told him that going anywhere near that alley would be stupid, and that he should just get home and get warm because fuck mid-February air. Yet, he stood there fucking contemplating, and ended up going in that damn alley anyway.

"Hello?" He called out. "Uh, everything okay down there?"

"Frank?" And fuck, of course, why  _wouldn't_ it be Gerard? "Frank, you should go." 

"Yea  _Frank."_ And shit, if that wasn't an intense amount of venom dripping off of his name he didn't have any idea what was. "You should go." 

"Uh." Frank started, looking behind him for any possible hope of backup. "Uh, Gerard. Um. Other dude. What's going on?" He walked further into the alley way, chewing on his lip nervously. 

"Gee baby didn't tell you about me?" The guy cooed. It kind of made Frank want to pummel his face, but he was kind of huge and Frank was kind of not. "I'm his  _boyfriend._ " And there it was again, a ridiculously large amount of venom dripping off of one little word.

"Um hello. I'm a dude he painted once." He nodded.

"Don't you mean a guy that's  _fucking_ him?" The guy snarled.

"I don't think I've fucked him, no." Frank fought the urge to laugh because he really didn't think that would help him at all. "What's even going on here?" He looked at Gerard, who he hadn't seen since he showed up looking for his art supplies. He looked horrible, with a bruised up face and a cut on his lip.

"I told you to leave Frank." Gerard mumbled. "You barely even know me."

"Your face looks like shit." Frank stated. "Absolute shit." He turned toward the still unnamed guy. "Did you do this to him?" The guy let out a loud laugh and shrugged. Frank really wanted to beat the fuck out of his face.

"Maybe I did." The guy pulled Gerard against his side, and from what Frank saw it looked like he was practically crushing Gerards ribs. "But hey, Gee baby needed to be put in his place. Got a problem?"

"Yes. Yes I do." Frank grabbed Gerards arm and tugged. After a few tugs, he finally got the creep to let go of him. However, he didn't feel very successful when his fist connected with Frank's face. 

"Andrew!" Gerard cried out, moving to jump between them. "Don't fucking do that!" 

And that was the night Frank got the ever-living-shit beaten out of him, while Gerard wailed and cried for it to be over. However, he was the winner, because that night Gerard came home with him. 


	3. Better Than That

Gerard was a fucking idiot. Honestly, out of all the idiots Frank had ever met Gerard was the absolute biggest. Not because of anything Gerard did in the twenty-four hours he stayed with Frank. No, he was great then. But at eight o'clock in the morning, when his phone started going off and within two minutes he was convinced to go back to that guy. Frank couldn't even remember his fucking name. Either way, he was pretty sure he lost respect for Gerard then, because he was out and he didn't have to go back. No one was in the room threatening him. All he had to do was hang up the phone, erase the contact, and let Frank hold him while they watched movies. Except he didn't and now Frank was alone with the morning news and pop tarts.

And Gerard's art supplies was still spilled all over his floor. 

_Great._

Frank sighed and went to clean it up. How did he always lose in these situations?

**

It was three in the God damn morning. Who the fuck was banging on Frank's door at three in the fucking morning? He made his way through the tiny apartment screaming out 'I'm coming' every five seconds until he got there. "Hold on." He grumbled, throwing open the front door.

Gerard was standing there, shaking and picking at his fingers. It really just looked like he was twigging out. "It's three in the morning." Frank groaned. "What the fuck do you want?" 

"I can't go home." Gerard said.

"You live with your fucking mom, why can't you go home?" Frank stared.

"I just really can't go home." His eyes darted around the room as he kept picking at his fingers. He pushed past Frank into the apartment, crashing onto the couch shaking almost violently.

"I barely know you. Don't you have any friends?" Frank asked as he bolted the door back. 

"They're all asleep." 

"So was I asshole." Frank looked closer at Gerard, and if that white on his nose was anything to go by, he was totally twigging out. "Are you on fucking drugs?" 

"I- Shit. I, uh. Frank." Gerard looked around almost nervously. "I really can't go home like this. I, fuck." Frank nearly felt bad at him, but then he didn't because drugs? Really? 

"Jesus fucking Christ Gerard, what the hell is wrong with you?" Gerard's eyes got wider. 

"Don't tell on me." He begged. "Frankie, please. Don't tell on me." 

"What the fuck do you want Gerard? Give me your phone, I'm calling your boyfriend to come get you." Frank held his hand out expectantly.

"No!" Gerard shouted. "No, Frank. He hit me again. He said he wouldn't. I don't want him knowing where I am Frankie, please." 

"This is so fucking stupid." Frank deadpanned. "Seriously? How idiotic can you honestly be?" Gerard stared back at him. "I mean... shit Gerard. Drugs? And that guy, I mean come on. He's only going to keep hitting you. Look, I'll let you stay here tonight but if you ever show up to my apartment at three in the morning again, especially on drugs, I will fucking punch you. Got it?" Gerard nodded eagerly. "Just go to fucking sleep." Frank threw a pillow and blanket at him and sulked off to the other room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hi, hello. I love you. This chapter sucks. I um. I need to establish some tension I think. Yea.
> 
> I just informed my best friend I used his name and he abuses his boyfriend and he's weirdly excited.
> 
> Also yay new direction okay don't shoot me.


	4. I don't have a name deal with it.

Gerard stayed for a week this time. No phone calls or anything. It wasn't like he didn't have a home though, Frank was sure his mother provided him with a nice room so why the fuck was he still at Frank's? Why hadn't Frank kicked him out yet? Why were they falling into a stupid little routine? 

It was the little things. The way Gerard's eyes lit up when he smiled. The way he waved his hands around, getting very passionately into their conversation. The hilarious way he intently watched really bad horror movies that Frank hated. The way they both hated and yet loved really bad horror movies. 

Right down to his art supplies that was still laying on Frank's bedroom floor. Shit. 

 

Banging. Insistent banging. Who the fuck was banging on Frank's door at four in the afternoon? He decided that it was his mother, but it wasn't and he was left faced with some tall lanky kid he didn't know. The kid looked pretty boring, with his glasses falling half way down his nose and his mousy brown hair a mess. 

“Hello?” Frank asked.

“I'm Mikey.” The kid stated. “Gerard's brother, is he here?” 

“Oh. Yea.” Frank nodded, letting him in the door. “Are you taking him home? Please tell me you're taking him home.” Frank practically begged. 

“I'm taking him home.” The kid confirmed. Frank did a tiny little happy dance. 

“Gerard!” Frank called, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your brother's here to take you home!” He saw Gerard practically fall out of the bathroom.

“Mikey Way!” He yelled. 

“Gee Way!” The kid -Mikey- called back. “Hey, you've been gone a while. Figured I'd come searching for you before mom and dad sent the cops again.” Gerard practically beamed

“Was it that long again?” He laughed. “Shit, alright. I'm coming.” 

“Finally.” Frank muttered, rubbing his face. He was honestly just happy to have his apartment to himself. No matter how tiny and cold it was. 

 

Frank sat on his couch, in his boxers while he ate pop tarts and watched the news. It felt awesome to be able to do this again, honestly. Yet, the apartment felt empty. He didn't want Gerard there, he knew that. So then what was it? 

But he did want him there, and he wanted to watch him act like an idiot over the stupidest things. He wanted him there, because he had a God damn crush on him. Shit. That was not what he wanted. 

 

Frank's mother was overbearing, to say the least. She didn't want him to die alone, she wanted grandchildren, she wanted him to move back in and get out of that God awful apartment. To put it nicely, his mother was a Jersey mother. Old fashioned and obsessed with his life. He usually didn't mind, but it practically drove him insane when she started trying to set him up. 

“Just go on one date, Frankie.” She'd said. Apparently one of the women she played bingo with had a single daughter, and he didn't have the heart to tell his mom hew as gay. 

“I don't want to ma.” Frank had groaned into his end of the phone.

“Frank, come on. She's a nice girl.” His mom sighed. “Her name is Jamia, give her a chance.”

“Ma.” Frank whined. “Ma, no.” 

“I just don't understand why you won't go on a date. You haven't gone out in so long.” She sounded sad, but Frank had gone out. He'd gone to several clubs, and he'd brought home several people, they just weren't females. 

“I'm just not ready.” Frank sighed. “I'll date somebody when I'm good and ready.” 

“Frank-”

“I'm gay!” He shouted. His mother stared back, shocked. “Fuck, ma. I'm gay. I don't want to date your friends sorry, and I'm so very sorry but no. I'm gay. I like boys.”

“You know.” His ma said slowly. “I hear Mrs. Way has a gay son.” She grinned. “His name is Gerard.”

“Gerard.” Fuck, of course. “Stringy black hair and always covered in paint?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yea. I'm watching Orange Is The New Black so I have been procrastinating.


	5. They're boyfriends now yay

Banging. Lots of banging. Why was there always banging? Didn't anyone knock anymore? Honestly, what was up with that? Frank tried to ignore it, he really did. It was just that whoever was banging on the fucking door didn't have any fucking decency. It was too God damn early. 

So, Frank answered the door, in his boxers, all sleep dazed.

And Frank was kissed, in his boxers, all sleep dazed. 

It actually took a second for him to even comprehend what the shit was happening, but yup, he was being kissed, at nine in the morning on a Sunday. By- shit. By Gerard. Motherfuck, what the hell was going on?

Frank couldn't bring himself to push him away, so he kissed back. And he kind of liked it. 

"Frankie." Gerard practically moaned, and yea, that was it. He had to pull away now.

"What the fuck Gerard?" Frank grumbled, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "That was like, so fucking uncalled for what the fuck?" 

"I'm supposed to bring you to church." Gerard stated, pushing past him into Frank's apartment. Into Frank's room. "Do you have a suit? I hope you have a suit."

"Whoa, hold the fuck up. Church?" 

"I told Linda I'd bring you, now come on we're going to be late." 

"Linda? My mom? Gerard no, I'm not going to church." Frank put his foot down, literally, he was stomping. So what if it was immature? He wasn't going to church.

"Come on Frankie, God is waiting." And then Gerard was in his closet, pulling out the only nice thing he owned. Which was a suit. That he wore to funerals, honestly.

"Are you fucking kidding me Gerard? Really?"

"Why would I joke about God?" Gerard frowned. Frank raised an eyebrow, no way was he serious. "God is like. He's grounding. And yea, he'd be ashamed of me. I figure it'll be okay if I repent enough though, you know? So get dressed because we're going to be late."

Frank got dressed.

 

**

 

Frank found himself sitting in the front pew, practically staring the priest in the face. He hadn't been to church in years, and his mom practically shit herself when he showed up. But she was happy. He figured he could suffer through this, but no way was he coming back next week.

When it was over, everyone shuffled out. Except for Frank, he fucking bolted, gasping in the fresh air when he made it outside. At least that was over. He was halfway through a cigarette when his mom finally came out, Gerard and Mrs. Way in tow.

"Frankie, baby." She cooed, enveloping him in a hug. He tried not to put a cigarette mark in her nice clothes. "Thank you so much for coming, its been so long."

"Yea, ma." He sighed. "I know, I'm sorry. But you didn't have to send Gerard to come get me."

"I volunteered." Gerard grinned. 

"Of course you did." Frank rolled his eyes. He wondered how anyone would react if he brought up that kiss right now. It was tempting.

"Come on Frankie, I'll take you home." And then Gerard was pulling him to his car.

 

**

"What happened to your boyfriend?" Frank asked, halfway to his apartment.

"My ma scared the living shit out of him. He won't be coming back for me." Gerard sighed, was he seriously sad about that?

"Why did you kiss me?" Frank raised an eyebrow, keeping his gaze anywhere but Gerard.

"You kissed back Frankie." Gerard pointed out. "Don't act like you didn't like it."

"I asked why you did it." Frank snapped.

"You're pretty." Gerard shrugged, pulling up to Frank's apartment building. "And you've been super nice to me and you've never hurt me and yea, maybe I'm rebounding, but shit Frank, you're great. Now shut up." 

"You're weird." Frank mumbled.

"Yea." Gerard agreed.

"Wanna come up?" Frank asked. Gerard grinned.

 

**

 

Frank had never been pinned against his own bedroom wall before. Especially not while shedding the clothes he wore to church. It felt dirty, but it also felt really good, so he kept letting Gerad undress him and suck at his neck and ghost his hand over his crotch. Yea, this was good. This was really fuckin' good. 

Frank had also never been fucked on his own bed before. He wondered why he was letting Gerard fuck him on his bed, but then he remembered that Gerard was really fucking cute so he didn't really care that much.

He'd definitely never been cuddled after sex, but Gerard was like a fucking cat. He made himself comfortable, head nestling in the crook of Frank's neck, cute little happy noises escaping his throat. Frank almost wanted to stay here forever.

 

**

 

Frank was almost sure Gerard was his boyfriend. They had sex alot, and showered together a lot and Gerard was always in his apartment. He almost liked it, because when he got sick Gerard went and got him cold medicine. They cuddled and watched slasher movies, it was good. Gerard wasn't really fucking annoying. Frank was happy with him, and that scared the shit out of him.

But then Gerard just cuddled closer and kissed the crook of Franks neck, and Frank wasn't thinking about all of Gerard's fucking problems. He didn't even ponder the fact that he had a drug addict, kissing him and fucking him and practically living with him. Not even when he caught Gerard snorting a line, and that was the scariest part. Frank was already attached.


End file.
